


Lingering

by mrhiddles



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, M/M, POV Loki, Paranoia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 00:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4856876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhiddles/pseuds/mrhiddles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is lost in thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lingering

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in a long time, I'm sorry about that. Since the last time I posted here, I started going through what has been simultaneously the happiest and most stressful time of my life. This fic might be weird, I apologize.

When your spine seizes and your eyes blur at the edges, it feels like fire racing up beneath the skin. It’s the fear of the moment, the future moments, the ones you don’t know about but can think of, the ones you anticipate that burn down your neck and make you sweat.

It chokes the air from you but you keep breathing and it’s that repetitive squeeze that _hiss_ _hiss_ _inhale_ just before someone you love asks if you’re alright.

And you’re not, but their eyes are soft, easy, and you don’t want to break that, you can’t. So you say you’re alright, even though they can see your eyes shine. You see yourself reflected in them and worry it’s not going to work and that one day it will break.

Maybe it will.

You choke on dreams that have your cheeks wet when you wake up. You don’t sleep anymore. You breathe harder, it’s so hard. It takes longer for each beat of your heart to drop and it’s dizzying, that effort. You vomit and it’s bile and it feels good, a release.

You feel alone and you are, you always have been and maybe that’s better. But it’s not what you _want_ , not anymore. You read once that loneliness sits beside you like an old friend and that’s true, in a way. A companion you carry around because they are safe, they are familiar, they are you and that’s all you need. Survival.

But being held is lovely. And being wanted is lovelier. 

The heart beats slow, hungry. A bloody mess of an aching thing.

It won’t break, not if you don’t want it to and it’s all in your head all in your head all in your— 

You feel arms winding around you and then there’s that soft yellow hair in your eyes and your brain goes quiet, for a moment. 

But then you breathe and it all comes back, a gear always grinding. 

Creature comfort does not always equal survival but now it does, in a way, and you don’t know how to do that.

In these quiet moments you try.


End file.
